


Silence

by voksen



Series: WKverse [21]
Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Hand Jobs, M/M, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-22
Updated: 2009-10-22
Packaged: 2017-10-28 08:13:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/305757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voksen/pseuds/voksen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>in which schuldig and nagi have sex in a rosenkreuz bathroom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silence

In Rosenkreuz they say Crawford smiles like a shark; all teeth, no humor. What they say about Schuldig is nasty enough that Nagi doesn't like to think about it - and that they don't like to talk about it too much in front of him, now that he's in Schwarz.

But Nagi learned a long time ago that the first rule of survival is _shut up and keep your head down_ , so that's what he does, giving them all his best imitation-shark smile until he can slip out of the common room: not unnoticed, but unstopped.

He heads down the hall and into the bathroom, the thin door swinging shut behind him. It doesn't cut out all the noise, but it's a little more peaceful; over the last two years, despite Schuldig, Nagi has gotten used to quiet, to having only two other people _near_ him, despite how often they live in cities. He washes his hands at a sink, then ducks into a stall, closing it behind him to put another tiny, meaningless barrier between himself and everyone out there.

What will they say about _him_ , later, (maybe _now_ , while he's not there to hear them), he wonders. Maybe that he's quiet, or that he -

 _That he thinks too loudly_ , Schuldig puts in, the smirk in his tone all but visible, like a Cheshire cat hovering toothily in the back of Nagi's mind.

Nagi jerks around, staring out through the crack in the door, telekinetic feelers springing into place throughout the room. Schuldig's not there, of course, so he piles his shields thicker until his mind feels thick and stuffy, hoping no one else heard.

Schuldig laughs into his head as if the extra shielding meant nothing. Nagi's pretty sure that's just because they've been so close for so long, but if there are other reasons - he thinks there might be - he's not going to think about them here, in the middle of Rosenkreuz. _They didn't,_ Schuldig says, _but you're cute when you worry too much._

 _I am not cute_ , Nagi begins, his normal reply to the casual teasing he's grown to accept, then stops when the bathroom door swings open. He tenses further, gathering his power to him - and then relaxes with a mixture of relief and irritation when he sees a flash of orange and white through the crack at the edge of the door, then a slightly clearer look as Schuldig stops in front of the sinks, preens himself in the mirror, winks at Nagi in the reflection.

Schuldig runs his hands through his long, unbound hair, then turns, leaning on the sink and watching the door of Nagi's stall, eyes running lazily over the full-length metal sheet. _It went fine,_ he says, answering a thought Nagi hadn't even finished yet.

It annoys him when Schuldig does that, just a little; he likes the illusion of privacy sometimes, even though he's somehow begun to depend on the bonds between the three of them. But Schuldig can't help it; being an irritating nosy shit is part of who he is just like being a telepath is.

Schuldig grins at him widely, teeth flashing bright white in the fluorescent light even through the tiny slit in the door. _If I'm an irritating nosy shit,_ he says, _what does that make a guy who runs off and locks himself up in a bathroom to think about me, huh?_

Nagi doesn't miss the fact that he's been upgraded from Schuldig's normal casual 'kid' to 'guy', but he does his very best to bury the little thrill that sends through him in the very bottom of his mind. Not that it works, of course; that soft ripple of amusement, half chuckle, half smirk, rolls through his mind again. It does strange things to the bottom of his stomach, and he's suddenly aware that they're alone together, that Crawford is who-knows-where and that while they're surrounded by psychics, Schuldig is almost certainly strong enough to - he cuts himself off, fiercely, forcing his mind into mathematical equations and theoretics.

 _Don't worry about it,_ Schuldig smiles, slipping forwards: by the time Nagi notices, he's already at the door, pushing it open; Nagi stumbles backwards, catches himself with invisible hands as he trips, and then Schuldig is in the stall with him. The stall door swings shut behind him, latch catching with an echoing click just as the outer door swings _open_ , hitting the wall with a bang and a rattle. Footsteps cross over to the urinals and whoever it is unzips and starts to piss, humming loudly and extremely out of tune.

Nagi looks up (and _up_ ) at Schuldig, who always seems shorter than he is at long distances because of his fitted jackets and slim build, blinks, and remembers that they have a reason for being at Rosenkreuz besides hiding in bathrooms. _You said it went well,_ he says, and Schuldig's assurances or not, he thinks as quietly as he can.

 _You really are paranoid._ Sometimes Schuldig likes to do that, answer with not-answers, but if there's a pattern to it beyond simply when he feels like being a pain in the ass, Nagi has yet to figure out what it is. He's about to protest, but Schuldig cuts off the half-formed thought again. _Yeah, it went fine. They've got the crazy fuck locked up down in some lab, but they think he'll be useful. Bet we get a nice bonus._

There's an undeniable undertone of distaste in Schuldig's mental voice, not that Nagi can blame him; he didn't spend long in the labs, as unadorned garden-variety telekinesis isn't hard to quantify. Schuldig, he knows, has two gifts, rare enough to keep him down for far longer; the 'crazy fuck' - Farfarello - is more of an unknown.

He thinks there might even have been a trace of _pity_ there, though there's certainly no sign of it in Schuldig's face.

 _Don't push your luck,_ Schuldig tells him, though he sounds more amused than angry at Nagi's brief foray into amateur psychoanalysis. For some reason, he sounds clearer than usual despite the shields Nagi did his best to pile on earlier, as if -

The bathroom door slams open again and there are more footsteps, low grunts of acknowledgement from the men outside, and _Schuldig's hand is on his face_ , his long, thin fingers hot against Nagi's cheek, and he realizes suddenly that he can hear Schuldig so well because Schuldig's shields are around his own, wrapping their minds intimately together in a way they've occasionally practiced, but never used for real.

He realizes that he's thinking of hiding from Rosenkreuz as being _for real_.

Schuldig's hand slips, his finger pressing hard against Nagi's mouth, warning him to silence, and Nagi shivers. He can't even convince _himself_ that it's from the chill of his side pressing against the tile wall through his thin school jacket, and what he knows, Schuldig knows. He swallows silently, blushing, and tears his eyes away from the white jacket in front of him, staring blindly at the tile instead.

One set of footsteps goes to the door; it opens, closes again. With gentle pressure - Nagi could easily resist it, but it doesn't even occur to him - Schuldig lifts his chin; Nagi's eyes flick to his, as irresistably as if Schuldig had been controlling his will.

 _Saa, Nagi-kun,_ he says, and this close to him physically and mentally - to a telepath Nagi _knows_ now is a hell of a lot stronger than Rosenkreuz thinks he is - Nagi sees a flicker of memory, remembers _himself_ two years ago from Schuldig's eyes, fresh out of Rosenkreuz and clinging to Crawford, coming through an airport. He remembers Schuldig talking to him just like this, mind to mind, in Japanese, and remembers that Schuldig's accent used to be even worse than it is now. It's disorienting and terribly strange, but when he tries to pull away, he finds that Schuldig's other arm is around his back. He knows he could get away, if he wanted to, but it would make noise, and there's still someone out there... and deep down, he really doesn't want to get away. He _knows_ Schuldig, and he doesn't think Schuldig would hurt him. Not really. He trusts him, and if it makes him stupid to have gone through Rosenkreuz and come out the other side able to trust, well...

Schuldig's hand shifts slightly, his finger brushing against Nagi's upper lip, tracing the curve, and Nagi's breathing hitches. _And I thought you were cute when you were paranoid._

Nagi's heard this tone from him before, though never directed at him; sly, teasing, _seductive_. It brings the shiver back, leaves him uncertain, off-balance. He opens his mouth, draws a breath, and Schuldig shakes his head, hair swaying slightly.

 _Quiet_.

In a horrified, embarrassed flash, Nagi remembers they're not alone and snaps his mouth shut. _Schuldig,_ he begins, then pauses, flustered - and doubly so, knowing that Schuldig is undoubtedly enjoying his discomfort, trust or not. It's...well, it's who he is.

 _Can't blame a cat for being a cat, hmm?_ Schuldig says, leaning down teasingly close, near enough that the hair hanging in front of his shoulders brushes against Nagi's chest, his face inches away. _That's my little pragmatist._

Nagi rallies and stands up straight, despite that bringing them closer still. _Isn't that a big word for you?_ he snips right back, and then, entirely on impulse, brushes Schuldig's hand away with a wisp of power and leans up to press their lips together. It's probably, he thinks, one of the bravest and stupidest things he's ever done.

Schuldig's surprise is all but tangible around him, his hands on Nagi frozen, and Nagi thinks maybe for an instant he's uncertain, too - but then Schuldig's hands tighten on his shoulder, his side, and he deepens the kiss, tongue sliding into Nagi's mouth, tangling with his own.

Nagi's suddenly out of his depth again, but not fatally. Raising his hands, he sets them on Schuldig's chest, deliberately pushing his palms flat: not enough to shove him away, just enough to feel the tight, flat muscle through the expensive white suit. He's seen Schuldig half-naked before, wet from the shower with a towel around his hips, and the memory of that - combined with the physical reality of this - has him suddenly, achingly hard. Against his side, Schuldig's own erection is equal and obvious.

Schuldig pulls away from the kiss, slowly, then bites at his lower lip. The sudden shiver of pain makes Nagi's hands clench in his jacket. Below the pain, like an echo rippling back to him, he feels Schuldig's intense pleasure at causing it - at feeling it - before he shifts away again. It's unreal, sick, twisted, and he can't deny how good it feels for either of them.

 _I like this side of you,_ Schuldig tells him. _You're sexy when you shut up._

The sheer unfairness and hypocrisy of that statement make Nagi's eyes widen, until he realizes that Schuldig is laughing at him again, subvocally, _subtly_. He's the one to pull back this time, but it's not to give in. He's not going to let even Schuldig back him down. _You're hardly Crawford,_ he retorts, eyes fixed on Schuldig's, raising his chin and squaring his shoulders.

Schuldig's answering smile is wordless and feral. There are footsteps again outside, flushing, the door opening and reclosing. In cover of the slight noise, Schuldig spins him around, pulling him close - his cock pressing against Nagi's lower back, his hands sliding across Nagi's chest in echo of Nagi's own earlier movements. _And you're hardly me._ He bends his head and swipes his tongue hot and wet across the curve of Nagi's ear. _So it all works out._

As Nagi opens his mouth to say something aloud now that they're alone, Schuldig's fingers find his nipple though his shirt, pinching - it's more pleasure than pain, even from only his own perspective, and he makes a tiny, desperate whimper instead, deeply embarrassed at how needy he sounds, (he _is_ ,) from a kiss and a few touches.

 _Hush_. Schuldig's fingers don't stop. One hand stays busy at his nipple, rubbing, pulling; the other slides down horribly slowly, finding the gap between his uniform shirt and pants and brushing over bare skin, across Nagi's navel.

 _But_ , he objects weakly. The reason is clear soon enough, though; half a second later the door opens again.

He can't even begin to guess how many people have come in while Schuldig is undoing his pants; they fall open immediately, his erection tenting his briefs out, the sudden freedom a relief so sharp it aches. Nagi trembles with the effort to stay silent, but his mouth falls open again as Schuldig's fingers close on his cock, hot like they're leaving brands through the thin cotton. Before he can make a sound, the hand that was at his chest is clamped over his mouth and Schuldig's lips are back at his ear.

 _Can you stay quiet?_ he asks, mouth moving soundlessly as the words form between them, _or do you want help?_

Nagi can't think for long seconds under the assault. _I... don't know_ , he says finally, truthfully, and is rewarded by a long, sweet stroke that nearly makes his knees give out. He could steady himself, he knows, but his control isn't the best under duress and... slowly, deliberately, he leans back into Schuldig's arms, squirming a little as he moves. Schuldig's hips press forwards against him instinctually, his cock hard between them. The echo isn't the only pleasure he feels from it; it feels good to be wanted like this, physically, for himself, not just as someone small and supposedly weak. If they were alone, really alone, together, then they'd be naked by now; it would be Schuldig's bare cock against him, skin to skin, at his back and and against his ass, maybe even -

Schuldig's voice lashes into his head, sharp and hungry. _You have a dirty fucking mind, Nagi._ His right hand is tight, too tight, over Nagi's mouth; the other dips into his briefs, shoving them down, then sliding back up from his balls all the way up the length of his cock, thumb catching at the head then running easily over it, wet and sloppy. _I like it._

Nagi thrashes soundlessly against him, his back arching, eyes rolling. Schuldig keeps stroking and stroking, his hand moving incredibly slick and smooth as Nagi's control disintegrates. He can't stop thinking about it, the two of them naked, _fucking,_ Schuldig bending him over and shoving his cock as deep as it'll go, stuffing him full - and he can't tell if they're _his_ thoughts or Schuldig's, or Schuldig making him think it. Whatever, whichever, he wants it badly. _Fuck me,_ he begs desperately, half lost in the fantasy, entirely consumed with the need to come. _Schuldig, please, please, please!_

Schuldig's growl is entirely silent, but it echoes through him like a shout; he bites down hard on Nagi's ear, hand clamping so tightly on his mouth to keep him quiet that his thumb covers his nose, but Nagi doesn't even notice he can't breathe. He shudders forwards into Schuldig's fist, unable to separate the sensations, unable to _care_. His hands fly up, grabbing onto the hand covering his mouth, nails digging into it, and yes, _yes_ , he's coming, trembling helplessly, orgasm ripping every last bit of strength from him.

When he struggles back to reality, he's faced with a semen-splattered door and a rather sore ear - and Schuldig's erection still poking him demandingly in the back. And, of course, Schuldig holding him upright and mostly stable, the deep red crescents from Nagi's fingernails clearly visible on the back of his hand. Nagi's pants are already done up; he can feel Schuldig's amusement, though he can't see the grin, as his embarrassment and self-consciousness at being taken care of starts to rise again.

Schuldig lets go of him, then suddenly slaps his ass, making Nagi _squeak_ in startled outrage, then immediately go white, horrified that he might have been heard. Reaching forwards, Schuldig unlocks the stall door and pulls it open, nudging Nagi forwards. _Don't worry so much,_ he says, and gets in another brief feel until Nagi, disconcerted, slaps his hand away. _Go on. Crawford wants to see you and you've got about a minute to get down the hall before someone else comes along._

He half-turns to look back as he stumbles out of the stall, but Schuldig closes the door behind him meaningfully. _Get,_ he says again. _Don't keep him waiting, he's already in a bad mood._

Nagi gets, doing his best not to think about Schuldig jerking off without him, reminding himself that he _is_ in the middle of Rosenkreuz and Schuldig is probably too busy by now to back him up - and that this is _definitely_ not how he wants people to remember and talk about him.

And if that's been Schuldig's plan all along, well, he's just as big an asshole as they say.


End file.
